The One Who Got Away
by I HEART JATAE
Summary: Pietro's been obsessing over a girl, and Lance is questioning his motives. Slashy-ness! I'm quite proud of this, so pleeease read & review it! Rated for language and adult content.


A/N: I started this fic, like, AGES ago, then was forced to stop because of my writer's block that lasted for eight months. But it's done now, and all posted and schtuffs, and I wrote almost the entire thing in like, three hours!! ^__^ Lots of slash, some Duncan-bashing (mweehehe!). And Freddy and Todd are strangely missing from this fic, soo... let's just assume they're on a mission for Mystique or someone, 'kay? 'Kay. So, uh... review and stuff... I think the plot gets a tad confusing towards the end, so lemme know if you're having trouble understanding what the hells going on. And it might help to read the story twice. And, unbelievable as it may seem, reviewing actually opens up new pathways of understanding. Really. My dad got this stupid high-tech espresso machine and I can't figger out how to work the damn thing, so I've been reduced to Folger's Instant Latte. *sips* Actually it's pretty good with soy milk and vanilla... ^_^  
  
*****  
  
"There she is," Pietro announced in a low, almost conspiratorial tone. "Sally Rao." She was certainly pretty, with dark, ethnic features, pale gray eyes, and shiny black curls that fell freely to her shoulders. Her clothes weren't tight or slutty, but it was easy enough to see the curves most fifteen-year-old girls would love to have. Lance raised an eyebrow.  
  
"THAT'S the girl?" he asked disbelievingly. Pietro's brow furrowed in slight confusion.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Lance shrugged and poked his "meatloaf" with a plastic cafeteria spork.  
  
"She just doesn't seem like your type, is all." Pietro was now pouting his lower lip, arms crossed moodily over his narrow chest.  
  
"And just what's my type, may I ask?" Lance gave a lopsided grin and continued poking the rubber-like lump on his tray.  
  
"Well, a guy, for one thing-- ow!" He rubbed at a spot on his arm, glaring angrily at Pietro, who didn't appear to have moved from his seat. Pietro stuck his nose in the air.  
  
"Serves you right," he harrumphed, turning to stare at Sally again. "So why isn't she my type?"  
  
"Well, she looks a little dark for you--"  
  
"Oh, so now we're being racist, are we?"  
  
"No! I meant... inside. Personality and stuff." Pietro made a face.  
  
"Well, I don't care about *that*!"  
  
"Wow, Pietro," Lance remarked dryly, "I knew you were shallow, but I didn't know you were THIS shallow..." Pietro rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, it would be different if she was gonna be my GIRLFRIEND, stupid." Lance raised both eyebrows.  
  
"You've been obsessing over her for a week and you don't wanna date her?"  
  
"No, not seriously, anyway. Just kinda a little fling type of thing."  
  
"What's the point in that?" Pietro shrugged noncommitedly.  
  
"Nothing, really." Lance stared at him.  
  
"Then why the hell are you trying so hard to get her?!" Pietro grinned.  
  
"For the challenge, of course." Lance groaned and banged his head on the table, hard enough to make one of the lunch trays tumble to the floor. Neither one of them noticed, not even when the "meatloaf" bounced.  
  
"Look," Lance said, standing up and hoisting his backpack onto one shoulder, "I'm gonna go find some intelligent conversation."  
  
"No you're not," Pietro retorted, "you're just gonna go talk to Kitty again." Lance growled and stalked off, grumbling about the obnoxiousness of vanity. Pietro picked up his things and strutted over to give Sally another try.  
  
*****  
  
"Pietro, I already told you," Sally snarled, her patience withering, "I'm seeing someone."  
  
"And I already told YOU," Pietro replied in a sultry, flirtatious tone, ignoring any personal boundaries she might have, "I won't believe you 'till you tell me who it is."  
  
"Arrgh!" Sally threw her hands up in exassperation and stormed off, hoping Pietro wouldn't follow. He didn't. He was too busy enjoying a nice view of her backside.  
  
"At it again, I see." Pietro didn't have to look to know that it was Lance. "You know, you were all over her at lunch, you got detention for talking to her during math, and now you're driving her nuts after school. When're you just gonna admit that she'll never flirt back?"  
  
"Oh, she will," Pietro responded confidently, turning to walk with Lance to the parking lot. "She just needs a little... warming up."  
  
"Yeah, well, you can warm her up later. We got stuff to do."  
  
"'We'? Who's 'we'?"  
  
"Okay, I got stuff to do and I need to drive you home first."  
  
"Naw, you go ahead. I can walk." Lance looked at him incredulously.  
  
"It's almost three miles from here, you know."  
  
"I know. I could use the excercise."  
  
"You could use a couple cheeseburgers-- you're skinnier'n a toothpick." Pietro glared up at his teammate with fiery, yet icy cold eyes.  
  
"And just what was THAT supposed to mean?!" Lance snorted.  
  
"You're the honor student. YOU figger it out." And with that he hopped into the Jeep and sped away from the school, deciding that three miles wasn't so long when a certain someone was being incredibly annoying.  
  
*****  
  
"I swear to God, one of these days, I'm gonna see him outside my bathroom window, camera in hand." Sally let out a heavy sigh and let most of her wight fall against the row of lockers. "Pietro is seriously creeping me out."  
  
Kitty shrugged, digging around in her locker for her Geometry book. "I dunno, Lance is kinda like that too, only he's not so, like, rude about it." Sally scoffed.  
  
"Oh, so Lance is the POLITE stalker. I see."  
  
"Sally, Pietro isn't stalking you! You're just, like, over-reacting."  
  
"I am NOT over-reacting, Kitty! If you were in my position, you'd feel the same way, believe me!" Her shoulders hunched and her lower jaw jutted out angrily. For all the observant readers out there, Sally's pissed.  
  
"Look, why don't you just go out with him?"  
  
"Kitty, I told you, I can't do that!"  
  
"Well, like, why not?"  
  
"You know..."  
  
"Oh, that? Well can't you just, like, forget about that for like, a day? I mean, I'm sure he'd leave you alone after a date..."  
  
"Yeah, a date... and a drink, and a kiss, and a blowjob." Sally sighed. "Kitty, I've dealt with guys like Pietro before, and I don't wanna do it again. I mean, why do you think I--"  
  
"Yeah, I know." Their conversation was cut short by a shrill bell, warning them both to get to class. Pronto.  
  
"I'll talk to you later, Kitty," Sally called, waving as they hurried off in opposite directions. "Call me tonight, 'kay?"  
  
"Okay Sal! And, like, think about what I said!"  
  
*****  
  
Pietro was reading on the sofa. Or, at least, Lance assumed he was reading- - it was difficult to tell with him flipping through the pages so quickly. Although they'd been living together for months now, Lance still had a hard time comprehending just how he could do things so fast, but still do OTHER things at a human rate, when he had to.  
  
"What is it?" Lance blinked. How long had he been standing there? How long ago had the other boy noticed him?  
  
"We gotta talk," Lance said (almost) sternly, crossing the room to sit in an armchair near his speedily-inclined friend. Pietro raised an eyebrow, not looking away from his book.  
  
"Isn't that kinda what we're doing." Lance made an exassperated noise (A/N: do you know what that noise might be? Yeah, me either.) and rubbed his forehead, the first signs of a migraine hitting him. He knew he really should take some aspirin and go nap it off, but he also knew he'd never get to sleep if he didn't get some real information out of Pietro.  
  
"You know what I mean." Pietro put his book down. Not because he really wanted his semi-confidant to see he was paying attention (which he was, for once), but because he'd finished it.  
  
"Okay, whatdoyouwannatalkabout?" Lance had gotten used to guessing at what Pietro was saying when he talked too fast to understand him.  
  
"I wanna talk about Sally."  
  
"Ah, Jesus, don't tell me you like her too!"  
  
"No, no, nothing like that, I just..." He paused, looking for the right words. "Well, why? And don't gimme that 'it's all about the challenge' bullshit, 'cause I know there's somethin' else." Pietro raised an eyebrow.  
  
"And just how, may I ask, would you know?"  
  
Shrug. "I just do. Trust me."  
  
Sigh. "You really wanna know?"  
  
"Would I be asking if I didn't?"  
  
"Do you always answer a question with a question?"  
  
"Do you always avoid the subject?"  
  
Another sigh. There was a long pause-- by Quicksilver Time, that is. In reality, it didn't even look like he'd hesitated. "Do you know how long it's been since I've kissed a girl?"  
  
Pause. "No..."  
  
"Three months."  
  
"THAT'S what this is all about?! Christ, Pietro, it's not that--"  
  
"Hey, maybe it's not long for YOU, but you've been mooning over the same chick for as long as I've known you, and you're living by NORMAL time! I'm living life ten times as fast, andthreemonthscanbeforeverwhen--"  
  
"Dude, slow down!"  
  
"See?! That'swhatImean!"  
  
"Pietro, calm down a second... Okay. It's been three months, go on."  
  
"Well... it used to be so... easy for me. Everything did. And then it just... stopped, and I can't figure out why. And I want it back."  
  
"Want what back?"  
  
Shrug. "Whatever made me win everything, and made me so charming and capable around women."  
  
Nod. "Luck."  
  
Head-shake. "No, it's... something else. I dunno, Mojo or something."  
  
"And... you think this girl... that she might help you get it back?"  
  
Chuckle. "Sounds dumb when you say it like that... but, yeah. I mean, Sally's like every man's dream, and when she plays hard-to-get, she's not just playing. And I figure, if I can get her, I can get anyone. But if I can't... she'll just be a lost victory. The one who got away."  
  
Lance sat in silence a few minutes, waiting to see if Pietro had anything left to say. But he just lay there on the sofa, chewing his lower lip and looking off towards the kitchen-- not at Lance. The dark-haired boy stood up with a sigh.  
  
"Well, I'm gettin' tunnel-vision, so I'm gonna go sleep for awhile. You just... keep on reading." And he left. Pietro stared after him. Where was the pat on the back? The "I'm glad we had this talk"? The feeling of a load being lifted from his chest? Probably the same place as his Mojo, he reasoned. He picked up another book that was waiting for him on the floor, but found himself unable to concentrate on the words. All he could think about was how disappointed Lance had sounded.  
  
*****  
  
Sally peeked around the corner of the building. She could see the bus, HER bus, loading passengers. If she didn't hurry, she'd be forced to walk home. She shuddered, remembering the LAST time she'd missed the bus and a certain silver-haired teen had decided to keep her company for the entire three-mile hike across town.  
  
Seeing that the coast was clear, she darted towards the bus stop, hoping against hope that she would make it there on time and not have to deal with- -  
  
"Hey there, gorgeous, what's your hurry?"  
  
Speak of the mother-fucking-devil.  
  
"I need to catch my bus, Maximoff," Sally growled through clenched teeth. Uh-oh, the first-name familiarity has been dropped. This girl means business, folks.  
  
"You mean that bus?" HER bus was currently pulling away from the curb, completely oblivious to the excrutiatingly annoying situation it had indirectly put her into. Sally was certain she could feel steam coming from her ears.  
  
"So, tell me again why you REFUSE to go out with me just ONCE?" She looked up at him, her silvery eyes flaming.  
  
"Why? You fucking wanna know WHY?! Alright, Pietro, I'll tell you WHY! In fact, I'll say it in a way that'll MAYBE make its way through your thick skull!" He suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that maybe he really didn't want to know. "I! Like! Girls! There, you happy now? Finally satisfied now that you know I'm a fucking dyke?! Well, you should be, seeing as I haven't even told my goddamn family yet, let alone anyone at school!"  
  
Pietro blinked. And blinked again. He just couldn't form the words to tell her how sorry he was. Her tear-rimmed eyes and shaking fists weren't helping matters much.  
  
"I'm... I'm sorry," he finally told her quietly. "I wasn't-- I mean, I didn't... I didn't know."  
  
She sighed, looking at the ground. "Well, that's probably a good thing," she replied, her voice low and frightened.  
  
"So... when you said you were seeing someone, you meant--" She nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Wow. I mean... just... wow."  
  
There was a long, uncomfortable silence then. She looked so scared and insecure, rubbing her hands along her bare upper arms.  
  
"I won't tell anyone, you know." She looked up into his regretful face, her eyes wide and watery.  
  
"You... you won't?" He smiled and shook his head. She smiled too. "Thanks."  
  
"And if you ever wanna talk about... you know, stuff... you can trust me." She nodded, then turned and left. She had a long walk ahead of her.  
  
*****  
  
"Fuck's Ice-Cream Pizza, what took you so long?" Pietro ignored Lance's odd expression and got into the car, still shocked at Sally's confession.  
  
"She's gay."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Sally."  
  
"WHAT?! No way!"  
  
"Way. She just told me."  
  
"Jesus. How long's she known?"  
  
"Long enough to get a girlfriend, apparently."  
  
"You gotta be shitting me!"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Wow. Fuck, you'd think we woulda heard something by now..."  
  
"Naw, she said she hasn't told anyone yet."  
  
"But she told you? I thought she hated you..."  
  
"Yeah, but I think she just couldn't think of any other way to get me off her back. 'Sides, I promised not to tell--" Pietro suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth.  
  
Eye-roll. "Wow, you sure can keep a secret, man..."  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
"Don't sweat it, I won't tell anyone."  
  
*****  
  
"And so I was like 'No way, I am NOT going to some bar on a school night! I'd be breaking, like, fifty rules!' So then this morning, I go down for breakfast, and there they are, all beat-up and stuff! Turns out they got there right before a fight broke out, someone called the police, and now they're all grounded for two months! Ha! Isn't that just, like, sooo funny, Lance?"  
  
There was no response, so Kitty asked again. "Lance, I said, like, isn't that funny?" He just continued strolling down the hall with her, deep in thought. "Hello, like, Earth to Lance!"  
  
"Huh?" He awoke from his walking transe and looked down at an irked-yet- still-slightly-concerned-looking Kitty. "Oh, uh, sorry Kitty. I'm just... thinking." She cocked her head.  
  
"About what?" He shot her a quick sideways glance.  
  
"I can't tell you." She touched his arm, and they both stopped walking.  
  
"Lance, you know you can tell me anything..." He sighed.  
  
"But... this is my friend's secret, not mine."  
  
"I promise I won't tell anyone!" He blew the hair out of his face.  
  
"Well, you know that girl Pietro's been chasing around? Sally?"  
  
"Uh huh?"  
  
"She, uh, told him why she won't go out with him." Kitty's eyes widened considerably.  
  
"Ohmygod, are you serious?! But she said she didn't want anyone to know! At least, not till they, like, worked some stuff out, and--"  
  
"Well, she told him. He said he wouldn't tell, but he blabbed to me, and now I'm blabbing to you, and I'm hoping you won't blab to anyone else." She shook her head.  
  
"Sally's, like, a really good friend of mine, and I was the only one who knew about it. Like, trust me, I'm not gonna tell anyone until she gives me the okay." Lance sighed in relief.  
  
"So, has Sally told you who she is yet?"  
  
"Who who is?"  
  
"Sally's girlfriend." Kitty gave him an odd look.  
  
"Girlfriend?"  
  
"Yeah... I mean, that's what she told Pietro..."  
  
"Waitasecond, she told him WHAT?!" Lance was now giving her an equally odd look.  
  
"That she's gay," he said slowly. She blinked.  
  
"Lance, Sally isn't gay." His features softened.  
  
"Oh... she hasn't told you yet..."  
  
"No, Lance, I mean I know for a FACT that she isn't gay!" He looked confused, and she sighed, shaking her head resignedly. "I think there's something you should see..."  
  
*****  
  
"Pietro!" He turned around at hearing his name, searching the crowd in the hallway for the source. "Pietro, come quick!" Lance grabbed his wrist and yanked him through the mass of students, nearly pulling his arm out of the socket.  
  
"Ow, hey! What'sthebigidea?!"  
  
"I have to show you something, quick!" He was led down the main hall, away from his next class, and the number of people tapered off until they were alone in front of an old storage closet.  
  
"Lance, what the hell's going on? I'm gonna be late, this better be good!"  
  
"Oh, it's good, alright. Look, I don't know the best way to say this, but... Sally lied to you." Pietro wrinkled his nose in confusion.  
  
"What?"  
  
"She's not... what you think she is." He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.  
  
"And just how would you know?" Lance shrugged.  
  
"See for yourself." He jutted his thumb towards the closet door, which, Pietro noticed, was slightly ajar. He pushed it open just a tiny bit more, letting in just enough light to see what was going on.  
  
There she was, pressed up against a cold brick wall, her arms wrapped around somebody. A familiar somebody. A familiar MALE somebody. He recognized the jeans, the shirt, the blond hair...  
  
It was easy enough to tell what they were doing, and, judging by the way her hand was pressed against the crotch of his pants, what they were going to be doing. She moaned, and it formed the semblance of a name.  
  
"Duncan..."  
  
That was it. That was fucking IT. Pietro kicked open the door, racing in and flinging Duncan Mathews onto the floor. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard.  
  
"What the fuck is WRONG with you?!" he demanded, his voice and hands shaking with rage. "You LIED to me! You fucking looked me in the eye and LIED to me, you little whore!"  
  
"I NEVER lied to you!" she screamed back, squirming out of his grip. "I was extremely careful about what I said yesterday, and I didn't lie to you, not once!"  
  
"But you said--"  
  
"I SAID I liked girls, Pietro!" she interrupted. "There's a difference between liking girls and liking ONLY girls!" His eyes narrowed.  
  
"You tricked me. You might not have lied to me directly, but you were IMPLYING that you were gay! Why would you do something like that?"  
  
"I had to get you off my back somehow!"  
  
"You coulda told me the TRUTH! About you and Mr. Pimpin' here!" Duncan wanted desperately to defend himself, but didn't feel like getting his head ripped off at the moment.  
  
"I couldn't! He asked me, he made me PROMISE that we'd keep it a secret for awhile so he could get all the goodies of a relationship, but still date Jean The Tease!"  
  
"You little tramp..." Pietro growled. His eye twitched. "You're fucking one guy, why not two? Or three? Or seventeen? Hell, you've probably done it in the past, on multiple occasions, why not with me?" She glared at him. Her expression was angry and dangerous, and any man in his right mind would know not to question her at a time like this.  
  
"Because I don't fuck guys just so they can get through their little sexual identity crisis." Pietro's expression changed from anger to a kind of shocked pain. She'd apparently struck a nerve, a hidden one-- possibly even hidden from himself.  
  
"Don't bother denying it, sweetie, I've dealt with guys like you before. You don't know if you're gay or straight or bi or what, so you fuck some random slut to see if you still get off on it." She shook her head. "I'm easy, Maximoff, but I'm not a porno-mag. Go find some other girl to work out your sexual frustations on."  
  
Pietro stood there, shocked, for a few seconds more before he was gone, leaving only a gust of wind in his wake. Lance gazed off in the direction he ran, then turned towards Sally, his eyes blazing.  
  
"You coulda broken it to him easy," he said slowly, deliberately. She just stared at him, unfazed. "You could have just said you didn't like him, or that you were dating this prick here, but nooooo. You just HAD to take the sadistic route and be the sneaky, conniving little bitch that you are." He leaned in closer to her, their noses almost touching. "You ARE a whore. An object. Just a walking blow-up doll with an attitude and a tongue ring.  
  
"I like Pietro. I like him a lot. I'm closer to him than anyone, which isn't saying much because he cuts himself off to keep people like YOU from pulling little stunts like this. And I assure you that if I didn't think it would only bring me down to your level, I'd be beating the shit out of you right now."  
  
She just continued staring at him, a false layer of confidance in her eyes. "Pietro deserves everything he got," she said flatly. "And if you're so worried about him, you can go suck the little faggot's dick-- I'm sure it'd make you BOTH feel a lot better." Lance smirked.  
  
"You know, you think you're a lot smarter than you act like you are," he said. He started to leave, then paused and added, without turning to look at her, "or maybe it's the other way around." They listened to his boots against the tiled floor as he made his way down the empty hallway. Then there was silence. Duncan and Sally stood in the dark, thinking over what had just happened.  
  
"He was wrong about you, you know," Duncan told her, standing up.  
  
"Yeah?" she asked quietly, her spirits beginning to rise again. "You think so?"  
  
"Definitely." He slipped over to her, putting his hands on her waist, and sliding them down her backside. His mouth found her earlobe and sucked on it. Her eyes narrowed angrily. "I think you're the most beautiful--"  
  
"Oh, go fuck yourself, dickweed." She yanked his hands off her ass and stormed out of the closet and down the hall, arms crossed insecurely over her chest.  
  
*****  
  
After checking the bathroom, the bleachers, and the place they usually ate lunch, Lance finally found him sitting in the Jeep, chin resting on his bony knees. He approached the car slowly, sliding into the driver's seat next to his friend.  
  
"You okay?" he asked carefully. Pietro shook his head. It didn't take a whole lot of brains to tell that the boy was on the brink of tears.  
  
"You wanna take the rest of the day off?" He nodded. Lance started the car.  
  
The drive was silent; one of them too lost in thought to say anything, the other unsure of what to say to make things better. When they finally arrived at the house, Pietro was the first to speak.  
  
"It's not true, you know," he assured. "What Sally said. About me." Lance smiled and held the front door open.  
  
"Yes it is," he argued softly. Pietro looked suddenly angry.  
  
"And just how would YOU know?!" he spat. Lance pulled him inside and pushed him against a wall, leaning in close. Pietro's breathing quickened considerably.  
  
"Because I've been going through the exact same thing." Pietro's face went from blank to confused to shocked in a matter of seconds.  
  
"You mean... you..." Lance nodded, his smile and eyes wistful. "But... who?"  
  
"Who what?"  
  
"Who were you chasing around?"  
  
Chuckle. "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."  
  
"... Kitty?" He nodded again. "But... but you're still..."  
  
"It's an image," he answered, before the question had even been asked. "A sort of security blanket. To keep people from guessing too much. She knows... Besides you, she's the only one I've told so far."  
  
Pietro was silent for another moment, then "So you're really gay?"  
  
Lance just smirked. And leaned in closer. And pressed their lips together. And that one touch, that one seemingly simple gesture, brought out all the pent-up emotions inside the blue-eyed mutant, and tears streamed down his face. And he kissed back, feeding a hunger that had been kept dormant for too long. And they somehow made their way upstairs, into one of their rooms and one of their beds, his eyes wet and red and smiling.  
  
THE END  
  
*****  
  
A/N: Heyyyy, where you goin'?! Yeah, that's right, I'm talkin' to you, buddy! Thought you could get away without reviewin', eh? Well, if you've come this far, one little tiny review can't be so hard, no can it? Pweeease?? 


End file.
